There’s a line drawn in the sand,
Wider than a normal hand,
My footprints waver in death’s land,
But the line draws true, to Jesus’ plan.
There’s a cross on my back.
It feels like panic attacks
And OCD traps
Me when I’m out of gas.
But though my mind lacks,
And I’m made out of glass,
I won’t fear the past,
Even tomorrow won’t last.
I used to have a burden
That filled me up with curses.
Didn’t want these verses
Written inside, and worship
Was incomprehensible as twerking,
Reprehensible, I burned out,
Responsible as Ace Ventura.
Seems like I can’t stop myself now.
Deep inside of my heart there’s a sound,
Reverberates through my chest like breakdowns
In metal-core songs like I need to speak to crowds.
No matter the fear, there’s a beacon of light I found.